Overcome
by pegasusrising82
Summary: Daryl tries to cope with the loss of Carol. *I began writing this before the episode aired, so, some things don't mesh with the canon material. Cross posted from my LiveJournal. I do not own The Walking Dead or the characters in this story.*


She was dead and there was nothing he could do about it.

_How did it happen?_

_Did she suffer?_

Those were just some of the questions buzzing around in his head.

The reason why he didn't go after her was simple: he was afraid to know the truth. Daryl was afraid of seeing the possible aftermath of whatever might have happened. He never wanted to see her as a walker. He didn't want to see her becoming the thing they all feared most. Would he have to take matters into his own hands? Shooting a woman he cared about between the eyes was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

Daryl quickly volunteered to find food for the newborn in Carl's arms. That baby wasn't going to die if he could prevent it. The last thing they all needed was another death, especially the death of something so fragile and innocent. They would not have to dig another grave, not for one of their own.

The ride with Maggie was long and tiring. He felt mentally and physically exhausted. Daryl couldn't stop thinking about her. Was there something he could have done? Why didn't she find him? Why didn't he find her before all hell completely broke loose?

They found an abandoned daycare just a few hours from the prison. Maggie broke a window and climbed in, Daryl followed. They did a quick check of the room and the adjoining rooms to make sure they were alone. They gathered all they could fit in their duffel bags.

She broke the silence, "If you find clothes or blankets, get them. Get more than you think we'll need. Babies burn through formula and clothes pretty fast."

Daryl made no sign of having heard what she said.

She stopped, "Hey."

He didn't turn, didn't say a word.

"About Carol-... We... we're all upset, Daryl. I-"

"I don't want to hear it," He snapped, tossing an old stuffed bear to the side. "Fill up your bag and let's go. The faster we get out of here, the better. Don't wanna attract more attention than we probably already have."

Maggie, obviously disillusioned, turned back and gathered things in silence.

As soon as they finished ransacking the place, they climbed out through the same window, took out a few walkers, and went back to the prison. The last person he had on the bike with him was Carol. Maggie had snaked an arm around him and he let himself believe it was her for just a fraction of a second.

They rushed inside and Maggie quickly fixed a bottle for the baby. He stood around until something, or rather _someone_, caught his eye. In the shadows, there she was. The blood drained from his face, he was looking at a ghost. The strap from Daryl's crossbow slid off his shoulder and fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

In just a few steps, he was face to face with her. Studying it, searching for any signs of lesions. Any sign of hurt. Next, her arms. He ran his own rough fingers over her delicate skin. Daryl found nothing but blood, none of which was her own. He looked her up and down zealously in search for anything that might be wrong with her. Carol smiled a weak smile and placed her hand on his cheek. It was what he needed to be brought back down to Earth. He remembered himself and backed away slightly.

"You, uh, okay?" He asked.

"Shaken, but overall I'm fine." Carol replied and sighed.

"I, uh, sorry 'bout the whole-"

"It's fine. It's been a long day. For all of us." She smiled at him again. That same warm, comforting smile that could put anyone at ease. He picked up his crossbow and left for the catwalk he slept on, not wanting to see the faces of the rest of the group. He didn't need to see them to know they were probably snickering at his little outburst.

Carol followed him up the stairs and sat next to him, "I'm fine, y'know?"

"Yeah, I can see that." He replied not taking his eyes off the crossbow in his lap, pretending to fix something on it. She chuckled and nudged his arm against her own.

He finally looked at her, "Are you okay? I mean, really okay?"

She placed her hand on his and squeezed, "I'm really okay. I promise. Couldn't defend myself with only a knife, so I found a place to hide. Glenn was the one that found me. I just got lucky." She said, thinking of Lori and T-Dog.

He cleared his throat, "I'm, uh, you know, that you're okay."

Carol couldn't help but find his lack of words endearing and kissed his cheek, "I am too."


End file.
